up towards one of its intermediate halting places. It also brought home to me vividly the inter-tribal character of this institution, which unites in one common and strongly emotional interest so many scattered communities. That night, as we learnt afterwards, a good number of canoes had anchored on the outlying deserted islands of the Amphletts, waiting for the rest of the fleet to arrive. When we came that evening to Nabwageta, the news had already been received of the important event, and the whole village was astir.
Next day, the weather was particularly fine and clear, with the distant mountains wreathed only in light cumuli, their alluring outlines designed in transparent blue.
Early in the afternoon, with a blast of conch shell, a Dobuan waga, in full paint and decoration, and with the rich pandanus mat of the sail glowing like gold against the blue sea, came sailing round the promontory.
One after the other, at intervals of a few minutes each, other canoes came along, all sailing up to some hundred yards from the beach, and then, after furling the sail, paddling towards the shore (see Plate XL).
This was not a ceremonial approach, as the aim of the expedition this time did not embrace the Amphletts, but was directed towards the Trobriands only, Vakuta, and Sinaketa; these canoes had put in only for an intermediate halt.
Nevertheless, it was a great event, especially as the canoes of Nabwageta were going to join with the fleet later on.
Out of the sixty or so Dobuan canoes, only about twenty-five with some 250 men in them had come to Nabwageta, the others having gone to the big village of Gumasila.
In any case, there were about five times as many men gathered in the village as one usually sees.
There was no Kula done at all, no conch-shells were blown on the shore, nor do I think were any presents given or received by either party.
The men sat in groups round their friends’ houses, the most distinguished visitors collected about the dwelling of Tobwa’ina, the main headman of Nabwageta.
Many canoes were anchored along the coast beyond the village beach, some tucked away into small coves, others moored in sheltered shallows. The men sat on the shore round fires, preparing their food, which they took out of the provisions carried on the canoes. Only the water did they obtain from the island, filling their coco-nut-made water vessels from the springs. About a dozen canoes were actually moored at the village beach. Late at night, I walked along the shore to observe their sleeping arrangements. In the clear, moonlit night, the small fires burnt with a red, subdued glow; there was always one of them between each two sleepers, consisting of three burning sticks, gradually pushed in as they were consumed. The men slept with the big, stiff pandanus mats over them; each mat is folded in the middle, and when put on the ground, forms a kind of miniature prismatic tent.